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Updated: June 24, 2025
Russ Evans, Pilot 3497, Rocket Squad Patrol 34, unsnapped his seat belt, and with a slight push floated "up" into the air inside the weightless ship. He stretched himself, and yawned broadly. "Red, how soon do we eat?" he called. "Shut up, you'll wake the others," replied a low voice from the rear of the swift little patrol ship. "See anything?"
The first sight that greeted him was the canvas, flapping limply in the open, and he found Shady's dust tracks round the cabin, and swore. He ducked hurriedly into the house and reappeared with a shotgun, unsnapped the chain from the cabin wall and resnapped it in his belt, and he was off, with the eager hound tugging ahead of him on Shady's trail.
By the time Finn had to some extent exhausted the first novelty of his surroundings, and was contemplating the desirability of sleeping off some of its effects the number of new impressions he had formed that morning was at least equal to those of a human's first visit to a great picture gallery the Master came along with something of a rush, chains were unsnapped, and Finn and his sister were taken down from the bench.
He hoped that the darkness and breaking surf above were concealing their bubbles. Finally Zircon halted. Rick unsnapped the line that held him to the scientist, squeezed Zircon's shoulder, and swam away from the reef toward the open water. He kept his head turned so he could keep the light in his field of vision.
Yes, even while they talked to Mrs. Kember and took in the awful concoction she was wearing, they saw her, stretched as she lay on the beach; but cold, bloody, and still with a cigarette stuck in the corner of her mouth. Mrs. Kember rose, yawned, unsnapped her belt buckle, and tugged at the tape of her blouse.
But the boy unsnapped the halter-shank without hesitation, and Diablo, more inquisitive than angry, came mincingly toward them, nodding his head somewhat defiantly, as much as to say that the nature of the interview would depend altogether upon their good behavior.
"They may not shoot if they see we're leaving," Scotty pointed out. "Uh-huh. And they might shoot, anyway." "They might. But we'll be moving fast, and I'll swing that boat from side to side like a swivel-hipped fullback. Let's get going. We don't want too much daylight." Scotty unsnapped his harness and Rick took his pal's tank and regulator.
Carl unsnapped the infernal finger-stretcher and dropped it in his pocket. "Come," said he not unkindly and led his weak and staggering prisoner to a room in the west wing where a log fire was blazing brightly in the fireplace.
She was built like a stallion, and down her backbone ran a narrow dark strip of hair that advertised an ancestry of many range mustangs. "How's the Man-Eater this morning?" he queried, as he unsnapped the tie-rope from her throat.
As the man's hand approached his neck, White Fang bristled and snarled and crouched down. But while he eyed the approaching hand, he at the same time contrived to keep track of the club in the other hand, suspended threateningly above him. Matt unsnapped the chain from the collar and stepped back. White Fang could scarcely realise that he was free.
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